Age of shadows, p.5
Age of Shadows, page 5
‘Very well, Captain.’ Elodi took the reins of Sea Mist and Cubric’s horse and tied them to the well. She removed her cloak. ‘It’s been many years since my last visit, but I can remember it being busier than this.’ Cubric drew his sword. She raised her hand. ‘Let’s not be too hasty. We don’t want to get off on the wrong foot. I can’t imagine they would react well to a drawn sword.’
He lowered his blade. ‘If it’s alright with you, ma’am, I’d rather be ready.’ He surveyed the empty ground between the walls of the gorge. ‘Standard procedure. And I’d be happier if you stay by your horse. Just in case.’
‘Captain!’ The first of the guards returned. ‘Everything looks in place but there’s no one at home on the north side.’ Three more returned to report the same on the opposite wall.
Elodi kept her eyes on the entrance. ‘Captain. Please set a watch at both ends of the settlement. But instruct your men to be polite. The people of Dorlgoth must understand this is a cordial visit.’
Cubric directed two guards to take up the watch. He eyed the doorways and muttered. ‘A strange place indeed.’
Elodi ignored her captain’s remark and walked to the statue of Dorlan. She noted the top of her head reached the shoulders of Dorlan’s stone likeness; the same height of Dohl following his transformation. The statue had seemed so much taller and grander on her previous visit, but the sculptor had done a fine job of replicating the face as seen in the paintings in Calerdorn… and Dohl. Elodi paced around the statue, listening to her footsteps echo back from the rock walls as her sense of unease heightened. She returned to the well as Culbric sent the last of his guards to check the remainder of the homes. ‘Please Cubric, put away your sword. If, for some unknown reason, they were planning an ambush, it would have happened in the narrowest part of the route on our way in.’
Cubric sheathed his sword. ‘Good point, ma’am. And I see no sign of a struggle here.’
Elodi sat beside him on the rim of the well. She glanced to the trees visible through the gap at the far end of the settlement. ‘Perhaps they’ve gone into the heart of the woods to participate in one of their customs.’
‘Looking for Dorlan’s dad perhaps? Might be taking another young lass with them.’ He grinned. ‘Perhaps looking to sire another hero?’
Elodi rolled her eyes. ‘Don’t be flippant, Captain. Remember what I said about these people.’
Cubric frowned. ‘Apologies, ma’am.’ He appeared to guess her meaning. ‘Only trying to lighten the mood.’ He looked to the doors left open by his men. ‘But to leave all your belongings unguarded? Is that normal?’
‘As I said, Captain. They’re unaccustomed to visitors, and follow their own customs known only to them. I imagine the most obvious reason for their absence would be something to do with a tradition. Perhaps they’re preparing for one of their many celebrations of summer. Living in such conditions among these woods means they’re very much attuned to nature and her ways.’
‘Would they even notice it’s summer here?’ Cubric shivered. ‘And it’s still weeks until midsummer. But perhaps it’s as you say, and they’ve wandered off to the woods and are dancing around an old tree trunk as we speak.’
‘Then we shall wait.’ Elodi stood and patted Sea Mist’s neck. ‘Have your men stand down and rest. But maintain the watch.’ She smiled. ‘I assume that’s standard procedure in a situation such as this.’ Elodi took hold of the bucket. ‘I’m sure they won’t mind if we draw water.’
‘Must be plenty to go around with all the rain we’ve had lately, ma’am.’ Cubric licked his lips. ‘And do they use some of it to brew ale?’
Elodi lowered the bucket on the pulley. ‘I would not know. I was but a small girl the last time I was here.’ She watched it disappear into the shadows. ‘Maybe I shall offer the service of a builder to install a pump. That would—’ The bucket hit something hard. She leaned over the edge; her voiced echoed as she exclaimed, ‘That’s odd.’ She turned to Cubric. ‘Please have one of your guards bring a torch.’ She turned the handle to raise the bucket and then let it drop. Again, it clattered against a solid surface.
Cubric bent over the low wall. ‘It can’t be dry. The streams in the woods flowed to the brim.’ He looked back. ‘Might explain where they’ve gone though, ma’am.’
‘But the whole village?’
A young guard approached with a torch. Cubric took it and held the flames over the well. Elodi peered over as he let it drop. The walls of the well flickered as it plunged and landed besides the bucket. Cubric gasped. ‘Well, I’ll be.’
Elodi squinted. ‘Is that… ice? It can’t be frozen, not at this time of year.’
‘It is ice, ma’am. See, the torch is melting it.’ The flame fizzled and went out. Cubric scratched his head. ‘Surely, the well is fed by the fast-flowing underground rivers. They shouldn’t freeze, maybe it happens in the far reaches of Nordruuk, but not down here.’
Elodi suddenly felt a chill in her bones. ‘I wonder if this has anything to do with that creature, Uleva? This could—' She ducked. The shriek froze her blood. ‘By the Three. What is that?’
Cubric looked up. He shouted over the din. ‘It’s the wind! Picked up all of a sudden, eh. It must funnel down this gorge.’ He helped Elodi back to her feet. ‘Had me going there for a moment as well, ma’am. Sounded like that awful thing you defeated in the gatehouse.’
Elodi brushed the dust from her armor. ‘It was purely an apparition, Captain.’ The wind continued to howl overhead. ‘Another summer storm, just what we need. I suggest we’ll stay here for the night if this sets in.’
◆◆◆
The storm did not abate. If anything, it grew stronger. The howling wind blowing in from the north ripped the clouds asunder, forcing them to ditch their rain on the unfortunate people below. Before long, water began to trickle through the settlement, rapidly turning into a stream, and then an angry river swelling around Dorlan’s knees. Elodi and her entourage had no choice but to retreat to Dorlgoth’s main hall, safely above the violent waters. As the light began to fade, Elodi reluctantly accepted they would have to wait until morning to see if the water had receded. She made good on her promise of a warm meal, allowing the men to use the fuel available to cook what scant supplies were stored in the caves. But to the guards’ regret, and Elodi’s relief, they discovered the people of Dorlgoth appeared not to drink ale or wine.
Elodi spent an entertaining evening beside a roaring fire, listening to what she guessed was a restrained discussion for her benefit. At midnight, she retired to a small room at the back of the cavern, welcoming the chance for a night undercover after days of sleeping in the open. Elodi closed her eyes, satisfied Cubric’s guards and the storm outside would keep potential threats at bay. Despite her concern about the absence of the inhabitants of Dorlgoth, sleep soon took her.
◆◆◆
Elodi woke with a start. Something was wrong. She could not name what troubled her, but her discomfort grew. The storm had abated. Outside was silent, and the air had changed. She rose, put on her breastplate, secured her sword belt around her middle, and called for Captain Cubric. No answer. She shivered as she stepped out of her room. Back in the hall, Cubric and his men slept, the flickering embers of the dying fire daubed the walls a deep red. But Elodi took no warmth from it. Her breath steamed in the cool air as she stepped over the nearest sleeping guard to rouse Cubric. He lay curled under a blanket close to the fire. She shook his shoulder, but he refused to wake. Elodi tried again, more vigorously, failing to rouse his cold body. She bent, placing her ear close to his mouth. He breathed, but slow and shallow. Elodi stood and was about to rattle a pot hanging over the fire with her sword, but something stayed her hand. The watch? Had the men placed at either end of the settlement anything to report?
Elodi made her way, treading carefully over the slumbering men. The air chilled further as she neared the entrance. Her chest burned as the cold seeped deep into her lungs. She stepped outside, wary not to let her labored breathing alert the unseen threat she suspected lay close. Above, a few stars twinkled through large gaps in the storm-damaged ceiling of branches. As her eyes adjusted, the full moon broke through, shedding a pale light on the settlement. Elodi stared in disbelief. The storm river had frozen solid, leaving a path of gray ice through the village. At the center, Dorlan’s statue glistened in the moonlight, wearing a hoar frost coat of armor of a thousand tiny, white spears right up to the tip of his sword.
A crunch, then a snap. Elodi spun in the direction of the sound, holding her breath, fearing the vapors would give away her position. The sound replayed in her head. It could have been a branch breaking, torn free from its trunk. Close to the entrance where they had arrived that morning, a ghostly light glimmered, but not of the moon, a cold light, tinged the rocks a faint blue. It moved. Elodi crept a few paces along the ledge, slowly drawing her sword before it froze in its scabbard.
Elodi stopped. A tall, rangy creature stooped over the prone body of a watchman left to guard the entrance. The beast held a short branch under its arm as its long, spindly fingers grasped the man. Another snap. Elodi covered her mouth. The creature twisted and wrenched the guard’s leg free of the frozen body. It placed it under its arm with what Elodi knew to her horror was not a branch, but the guard’s other leg. The creature crouched by its victim, raising a dismembered limb to its wide slit of a mouth in its large head. Sharp, pointed teeth closed around the leg. Elodi spun away from the sound of shattering bone. But despite her horror, she looked back. Gray sinews like cables jutted out from the creature’s head as its jaws clenched, then feasted on the fallen guard’s frozen flesh and bone.
Elodi’s heart hammered into her ribs. A shroul! She knew the tragic tale only too well. The hardy people of the north who dared stand against Ormoroth, were captured, tortured, and defiled. His vengeance knew no bounds as he unleashed the full corruption of his dark arts upon them, twisting their flesh and bones into a cruel parody of their former selves. But if they desired a swift death, they were denied. Ormoroth set them free, forcing them to live and adapt in the hostile frozen lands. They became misshapen, hollow creatures, both despising and craving the bitter winters that sustained them. Elodi knew of no soul who had seen one, believing they remained north of the trench. But the creature devouring the guard was obviously no apparition. Elodi tried to remember the stories. Could they be killed by a sword, or should she—?'
A thud; another crunch. Elodi turned and stared wide-eyed as a second shroul stepped onto the frozen river — it too carried a dismembered limb. She groaned; the other watchmen had shared the same fate as his unfortunate brother. The shroul’s large, cloven hooves splintered but did not crack the thick ice as it approached Dorlan’s statue. It stopped opposite and peered into its stone face glistening in the moonlight. It dropped his plunder, extending long, spindly claws to grasp the statue’s sword arm. It yanked and twisted. The cold stone snapped. Elodi stifled a moan. It may only have been a statue, but it had stood for nigh on a thousand years, cherished by the people of Dorlgoth. The shroul’s jaws gaped and clamped shut around the stone arm. It took a bite but spat out the rubble. It slung the arm away and watched it skid across the ice. The creature threw back its head and shrieked. Its pitiful, high-pitched wail echoed through the gorge, dislodging ice from the broken statue while freezing Elodi’s soul.
She gasped. The shroul cut short its cry. Its eyes locked on Elodi. The creature’s head tilted as if surprised to see a warm body in its icy domain. She shuffled back as the creature raised its scrawny arm and pointed a long, clawed finger at her. Elodi’s chest tightened as the air grew yet colder. She forced out a breath and inhaled, her lungs desperate for warm, moist air. But none was to be had. Elodi flinched as she breathed in tiny shards of ice floating in the cold air. Her pain alerted the other shroul. It dropped its feast and stood, also raising its skeletal finger towards her. Her legs stiffened. Claws of ice grasped her ankles and held her fast to the rock. Her throat and chest burned as the shrouls’ tainted air forced its way deep inside her like a blade. Unseen claws entwined her legs, groping at her torso to clutch at her arms. Paralyzed, only her eyes moved in her frozen face. But she could hear. Rock crunched and ice splintered as the two shrouls approached. Their labored rasps sliced through the air as they anticipated tearing their prey to pieces. Elodi stood helpless — the sound of splintering bones filled her head. She could do nothing to stop them from snapping off her limbs like icicles and gorging themselves on her, Cubric and all his men.
The first shroul crossed the path, strutting tall on spindly legs like the hind legs of a large hound. It moved with ease up the slope and rose up before Elodi. It tilted its head. Glassy, gray eyes glowered, turning the last warm place in her body, her heart, into a block of ice. The second drew near to her left; its glee panting coldly in her ear. The first drew its face close. The edges of its thin mouth spread across its grim face, stretching the skin, shattering its mask of frost to form a cruel grin. Its jaw quivered, gnashing its spiky teeth that chinked like hail on armor. Its cold breath smothered her numb face. The ice on Elodi’s brow crackled as she frowned, curious as to why the creature reeked of sour milk.
A claw clasped her arm. A silent scream shot forth from Elodi’s raw throat. This cannot happen! She glared back at the face of the shroul. I will not let this happen! The shroul’s eyes widened as if recognizing something deep within her. Heat stabbed at her stomach, surging to her arms and legs. The shroul released its grip as her body warmed, snatching its claws away as if scalded. Elodi could move. She raised her sword. The blade glowed orange as if reflecting the rising sun as it had at the gatehouse. But here, only the light of the moon shone. Elodi broke free from their grip of ice. She lunged forward, wielding her blade over her head in a circle, forming a shield of light. She dropped, then swung at the first shroul’s leg. Her blade sliced through the scrawny limb — its screech split the ice free from her breastplate. The leg fell and splintered. The creature collapsed, clutching the gaping wound, but before it could scramble away, Elodi brought down her flaming sword and cut off its head.
Elodi spun around. The second shroul crouched and clambered through the doorway leading to the hall where Cubric and his men lay. She strode through the entrance bellowing at the beast. ‘Don’t you dare touch them!’ The shroul twisted to face her, stooping under the low ceiling. It raised a finger, but this time its arm trembled. The shroul’s eyes bulged as they fixed on Elodi’s glimmering sword. It backed away, glancing behind to find a way out. But it could not move quick enough. Elodi sprung, plunging her blade deep into the creature’s hollow chest. Her ears almost split as the scream filled the cave. Elodi pulled back, then cut its cries short as she swung and removed its over-sized head. It toppled forward, crashing to the floor, quickly followed by the rest of its body as it shattered like glass, scattering a thousand pieces across the hall.
Elodi stared at the shards, satisfied she had released the tortured creature from Ormoroth’s curse. The fire within died. She staggered forward, sinking to her knees as she gasped for air. Her vision blurred as her head spun. She rolled onto her back and let her dull sword fall from her hand.
◆◆◆
‘Ma’am?’ Cubric stood over her. Elodi opened her eyes to find she lay wrapped in blankets beside the hearth. She wriggled her fingers and took a deep breath. She moved to sit but Cubric placed his hand on her shoulder. ‘I suggest you give yourself a little more time.’ He nodded over his shoulder. ‘Would that be the remains of a shroul we found in the corridor? I’ve never seen one, but what’s left matches the descriptions I’ve heard.’ Elodi nodded. Cubric’s eyebrows raised. ‘And I assume you took it down?’
Her voice croaked. ‘Yes.’
He let out a long sigh. ‘A shreek, now a shroul?’
‘Two.’
Cubric’s laugh turned quickly to a cough. ‘Two! I’d say let’s get you down to the Caerwal Gate and let you loose on the enemy right away.’
Elodi waved his hand away as she sat upright. ‘I’m afraid I wasn’t in time to save those poor watchmen.’
‘Foul creatures.’ His head bowed. ‘We found the watchmen. Their swords were drawn, so I hope they died a guard’s death and are now…’ he blinked. ‘May I ask you to attend their burial, ma’am?’
‘Of course, Captain. We must honor them in a manner fitting to their sacrifice.’
‘Then we will do so now if that is fine with you, ma’am. We rest where we fall… where possible. The locals will have to put up with that. I’ve placed a new watch, but there’s still no sign of the villagers.’
Elodi looked to the fire. ‘We shall honor those young men then make haste. No time to search for the villagers now. We must return to Calerdorn. There are more dangerous creatures than Ruuk roaming this realm these dark days.’
5. A VIEW FROM THE TOWER
The immense weight of Archonholm crushed Toryn against the stone floor of his cell. He had heard many tales of the citadel’s dungeons, but never thought he would find himself as a guest of the Archon. The flickering torches in the corridor shed light on his new home through a small, barred window in the door. Thankfully, he was not chained to the wall — the many gates he had passed through, and finally the solid cell door, at least allowed him freedom to roam his small space. And small it was, with no comforts such as a bed, just a bale of old straw and a cracked, wooden bucket that obviously leaked judging by the stained floor beneath.
Toryn sat on the straw away from the bucket. The Castellan’s Officer informed him he would be held in the cell until his trial, due to take place in a matter of weeks. The prison warden assured him it was purely a formality as he was unlikely to be considered a spy, and the captain at the Menon Bridge had vouched to speak on his behalf. But all trespassers were put on trial to demonstrate the Archon’s resolve to uphold the laws of the land. If found guilty, which was a foregone conclusion, Toryn would likely be sentenced to another month in the dungeons, then drafted into service in one of Archonholm’s many kitchens, or the stables of the First Horse. But for how long, the warden could not predict.
